


Where Sparklings Come From

by BlairFagin



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mech Preg, Mpreg, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlairFagin/pseuds/BlairFagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swerve is carrying and the younger members of the Lost Light have no idea how the whole process works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rodimus tilted his head back, trying to grab a sneaky look at Swerve. The bartender was behind the bar, passing a drink to a customer while his other servo cradled the bump on his abdomen. 

“I’m worried about him,” whispered Tailgate from his seat beside Rodimus.

Brainstorm swirled the high grade round his glass, “Here, this will fix that worry.”

Nautica slapped the glass away and wrapped her arm around Tailgate’s shoulders, “There, there, Tailgate, Swerve will be fine. As long as we keep an optic on him at all times then nothing will happen to him or his sparkling.”

“But he won’t let me look after him,” fumed Tailgate as he crossed his arms. “I tried to carry a case of high grade up from storage for him today, but he wouldn’t let me. He said a bit of light lifting won’t kill him. I tried to tell him he was too fragile, Ratchet said carrying mechs are, but he wouldn’t listen to me!” 

Getaway bobbed his head in agreement, “He’s right, I tried to convince him to drink a special blend that Ratchet said was good for carriers, but he said he was fine with regular energon for now. What if the sparkling starves to death?”

“He shouldn’t be working as well,” mumbled Bluestreak. “I tried telling him I could cover all his shifts, but he wouldn’t let me. What if something happens to him? This bar is a rough place, what if someone bumps into him and he pops!”

The mechs sat round the table jolted in shock, spilling numerous drinks and causing Getaway to slip from his seat. Tailgate rounded on Bluestreak, grabbing the bot by his chevron.

“He could pop?! Carriers pop?!”

“I assume so, he looks like he is about to.”

Nautica leant forwards and gave the others a worried look, “In most of the novels I read carriers miscarry from the slightest fall. They never showed what happens after they fall, it always cuts to the medical centre after the carrier has been repaired. The popping would make sense, no one would want to read something so horrifying.”

“That’s it,” commanded Rodimus as he slammed his servos down on the table. “We can’t let Swerve pop, we need to get everyone that could cause it out of the bar. Riptide, I want you to go drag Whirl out! Once he’s gone we have to carry Swerve back to his room and I’ll give him strict orders to stay in his berth.”

Riptide downed his drink, “Yes, captain!” he then saluted the group and stumbled over to where Whirl was sat talking with Cyclonus.

As the fight broke out, Rodimus made plans with the rest of the group. Deciding who would guard Swerve, what his diet was to consist of and who would be allowed to visit. As they were deciding whether or not Skids, the sire of the sparkling, could be trusted to safety sleep in the same berth as Swerve, a dark shadow fell across the table. 

“What is going on here? Riptide said you gave orders to chuck Whirl out the bar, is that true?” demanded Megatron, flanked by Trailcutter who was restraining Riptide.

“It’s a precaution,” explained Rodimus. “Whirl could pop Swerve.”

Megatron stood there, face frozen, eyes squinting and mouth hanging open slightly, looking at Rodimus like he’d suddenly sprouted another head. 

“Pop him?”

“Yeah, because he’s carrying now and carrying mechs can pop!”

Trailcutter released Riptide and the mech fell face first on the floor, “SWERVE COULD POP!”

“Swerve isn’t going to pop!” shouted Megatron, grabbing Trailcutter and turning the security chief to face him. “Calm down before your force field activates. Rodimus is an idiot!”

Rodimus surged to his feet, “No I’m not! Besides Bluestreak told me that and everyone thinks he’s right. We can’t all be idiots!”

Megatron looked down at the group, all nodding and agreeing with their red captain. He slowly dragged his palm down his face and rolled his optics, venting deeply in frustration.

“I forget how young you lot are. You most likely haven’t been in close contact with a carrier before, have you?”

Nautica stuck her hand up, “I sometimes saw carriers when I was on Caminus.”

“So that’s a no, then. Don’t worry, I’m going to fix this. I’ll arrange Ratchet to have a few classes. You lot are going to learn how reproduction works.”

“Why can’t you tell us now,” asked Tailgate.

Megatron’s optics narrowed to red slits, “No,” he then turned and walked briskly from the room, leaving the confused group behind him. 

They sat around, fiddling with their glasses and refusing to meet each other’s optics.

“I for one still think Swerve could pop and I’d feel much better if we took him back to his room,” muttered Rodimus.

The others voiced their agreements and made their way to the bar, determined to protect their friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Ratchet surveyed the group of young bots sat before him, whispering to one another and giggling now and then. He felt like he was back at the medical academy, teaching the next generation how to do his job for him, but even the most dim of medical students would have already known the entire contents of the lesson. 

“So class, you are here on our captain’s orders,” started Ratchet, before he shot a dark look at Rodimus. “Don’t even start that right now, Rodimus! We are here to learn the basics of reproduction, not to argue!”

Rodimus shut his mouth and shuffled further down in his seat, jaw firmly clenched. Ratchet waited a few more seconds, just make sure Rodimus wasn’t going to try to interrupt again, before he activated the projector and the image of a hunk of metal appeared.

“Now can anyone tell me what this is?”

Nautica’s servo shot up, “That’s a gestation tank!”

“Well done, you’re not a complete idiot,” congratulated Ratchet, he then slammed his servos down on the desk. “But you are still an idiot, because otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Now can anyone tell me how a sparkling is made?”

No one volunteered, but a fit of giggling filled the room. Rodimus was the most obvious culprit, not even bothering to hide his laughter, but even Tailgate was snickering behind his servo.

“Very funny, you all know how interfacing works, but I’m talking about how a sparkling forms. Anyone at all?”

Brainstorm shrugged, “It’s pretty simple, the frame forms from transfluid in the gestation tank and the newspark from when the two sparks merge.”

Rodimus frowned deeper and sat up, “Wait, you need a spark merge to create a sparkling?”

“Yes, because a newspark needs to form before the gestation tank activates its carrying protocols and starts building the frame,” explained Ratchet as he flipped through the projector slides.

“So I didn’t need to be on top this whole time,” exclaimed Rodimus.

Ratchet sighed and braced himself, “Why did you think you needed to be on top, Rodimus?”

“Because it’s impossible to get knocked up if you’re on top when taking a spike. It’s how gravity works!” 

The gathered crew muttered amongst themselves in agreement as Ratchet watched on in horror. It was a miracle he wasn’t swarmed with a med bay full of carrying mechs. 

“No one listen to Rodimus, he’s very wrong and I’m not sure how he’s escaped having a sparkling so far. Transfluid is made from nanites, which as we all know can move. Including upwards!”

That shut them up, some of them even looked sick and Ratchet could see the worry on Rodimus’ face. He made a private note to have the whole crew scanned for any little surprises.

“Okay, next part. We all know now that carrying mechs can’t pop, but we still need to go into more detail what can and cannot harm a carrier. Hopefully then you’ll all start leaving Swerve in peace,” Ratchet went through the slides until he landed on a diagram of a spark and gestation tank. “Okay, so there are three trimesters to the carrying cycle and only in the third is the sparkling’s frame at any real risk. Before then it’s just an empty frame and any damage done can easily be fixed with self repair systems before the newspark descends into the frame.” 

Tailgate waved his arm, “I don’t get it. Didn’t you say there needed to be a newspark before the frame started being built? How can the frame be empty then?”

“Well, because the newspark doesn’t reside in the frame for a long time, because it’s not old enough to survive by itself. The newspark orbits the parent spark and syphons energy from it, because it can’t convert energon into energy yet, so it needs to get it directly from another spark.”

"WHAT THE FUCK!” shouted Rodimus as he leapt out of his seat.

Ratchet stopped, “Is something the matter, Rodimus?”

The captain froze for a few second, before he looked at Ratchet, eyes filled with pure terror. Ratchet braced himself, knowing that whatever was coming next he wasn’t going to like. 

“So basically, when you’re carrying it looks like a little spark is going round your own spark?”

“That’s what I just said, Rodimus. Where are you going with this?”

Rodimus swayed on his feet, optics almost white in shock, “I thought I was just growing an extra spark, to make myself even harder to kill.”

Gasps swept the room as Ratchet stared up at the ceiling, wondering if there was indeed a deity out there. It was the only way he could think to explain why everything was happening. First Swerve had no idea what contraceptives were, then the rest of the crew had no idea how carrying worked and now Rodimus, the most immature mech he knew, was carrying a sparkling. 

“Okay, Rodimus, I need you stay calm and go to the med bay. I shall be there in twenty minutes, it’s most likely not what you think it is. It could simply be a spark condition, a deadly one.”

Rodimus nodded while his vents worked in overdrive, “Okay, a deadly condition. That sounds better! I’ll just be going now. Thanks for the advice, Ratchet. Otherwise I would have flipped the frag out. Me, carrying? That’s funny, I was so worried for a few seconds. Me and Magnus having a baby, that’s so stupid.”

“Leave, Rodimus,” ordered Ratchet as he pointed towards the door.

“Yes, will do,” Rodimus made his way to the door, waving at the others. “See you lot later, have fun with the class. I’m most likely dying!”

When he was gone, Ratchet sat down at his desk and smashed his forehelm into the surface. 

“Um, Ratchet,” asked Getaway. “Something the matter buddy?”

“We’re all doomed. More of Rodimus! There can’t be anything is this damn universe worse than that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So people are determined for me to carry this on. If you want anything in particular to happen, just go and request on my tumblr, blairfagin as well.

Megatron grit his denta and tried to keep calm. If he lost his temper then Trailcutter would think Megatron was angry at him, not the idiots who had decided the younger generation didn’t need an education on reproduction. 

“Contraception, it basically means ways to keep from getting sparked.”

“Like washing out your valve after fragging?” asked Trailcutter.

Megatron thought of all the times they had interfaced and Trailcutter had refused to recharge until after he had showered. He would be panicking if he hadn’t already taken his lover to the med bay to check for anything. Megatron wasn’t going to be a sire anytime soon, thank Primus. 

“That doesn’t work,” replied Megatron, trying not to glare.

“How do you know,” challenged Trailcutter as he crossed his arms. 

“Because,” growled Megatron. “No matter how hard you wash, some will have gotten into your gestation tank. It only takes a little bit to start off a sparkling and the carrier’s frame will provide the rest of the materials.”

Trailcutter looked like he was going faint, or activate his panic bubble. “Oh,” was all he was able to say.

“I see you’re starting to realise how serious the situation is? Don’t worry, you aren’t carrying and I’ll give you some options on what to take, then we can find something that suits you,” explained Megatron, as he thumbed through the list of contraception Ratchet said he could provide them with.

He was thinking maybe implants were an idea, he couldn’t trust Trailcutter to take the powder that could be added to energon every day. He was so engrossed in trying to find the right solution he didn’t notice something was wrong with Trailcutter, until he looked up and saw the stricken expression on his face.

“Trailcutter, is something the matter?” 

Megatron got to his knees and took his lover’s servo in his own, touching his cheek and tilting Trailcutter’s face towards him.

“It’s nothing, just worrying about stuff that didn’t happen,” muttered Trailcutter as he dabbed his face with the back of his servo, brushing away the evidence of his leaking optics. “That sure was a close one. If I had ended up carrying I would have lost you.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Megatron, his grip tightening. 

“Well, I can’t imagine you’d stay around if I did end up carrying.”

Megatron frowned and stood to his full height. “Trailcutter, I may not be the best of the mechs, but that doesn’t mean I would abandon you and our child.”

“But I thought you didn’t want a kid?”

“Not right now! But, I have never had a sparkling – that I know of– so one day I hope to have one. Just not right now, while everything is so chaotic. Maybe after we find the Knights.”

Trailcutter nodded, got to his feet and took the data pad from Megatron. “So what are you thinking of to keep that bundle of joy as far away as possible?”

“Do you think you could remember to take some powder in your energon every day?”

“Not a chance.”

“Okay, so we have a few options. What about implants?”

“Yikes, how about no.”

“Fair enough, I’d say no as well. They use a large needle and jab it between your plating to get it in. The very thought of that is enough to make me shudder.”

“Then why did you suggest it?!” asked a horrified Trailcutter. 

“Because I thought you wouldn’t be scared of needles.”

Trailcutter forced a smile and handed the data pad back. “Okay then, what do you use?”

“I have a small crystal in my spark casing, it keeps a newspark from forming. It’s uncomfortable, but you get used to it.”

Trailcutter sighed and flopped down on the berth, “I’m not liking any of these options. Why is not having a baby so hard?”

“Because Primus hates us, that’s why,” retorted Megatron as he joined his lover on the berth. “So you best get used to it and pick something. Unless, you want to end up carrying and potentially popping?”

Trailcutter glared up at Megatron, who was smirking down at him. “I know better now, stop teasing me.”

“No harm in making light of it, think of how badly things could have gone if you had all followed that train of thought,” retorted Megatron as he settled down next to Trailcutter. “God knows what else you lot all believe, it’s a miracle we managed to catch it before we ended up with a ship full of sparklings.”

Trailcutter hummed in agreement as he kissed Megatron’s chassis, taking the whole conversation in a very different direction. Megatron tugged Trailcutter’s frame closer and leant his helm back, enjoying the sensation of Trailcutter’s derma. 

“We can’t spark merge right now, just remember that,” gasped Megatron as Trailcutter’s fingers brushed against his spike housing. 

His spike pressurised into Trailcutter’s hand and Megatron watched with dim optics as his lover moved down the berth. Trailcutter licked a stripe on the spike from its base all the way to the head, a small smirk on his derma.

“Oh, frag! Not now,” groaned Megatron as Ratchet tried to open a comm. line, labelled with a high priority.

“But I though you wanted to interface?” asked Trailcutter, pulling back from Megatron’s spike.

“Not you, it’s Ratchet,” hissed Megatron and then opened the comm. line. “What is it, Ratchet? This better be good.”

“Not good, it’s terrible,” came the harsh reply. “Our dearest co-captain is sparked. Rodimus is on his way to the med bay now. I need you to get Ultra Magnus and explain to him what’s happening. I would ask someone else, but Magnus seems to respect you, so he’ll remain in control because of it. Plus you may need to catch him.”

Megatron swore he felt the pressure in his energon pump triple, threatening to burst a line. Hopefully one in his processor, then he wouldn’t have to deal with anything. 

“Understood, Ratchet. I’m on my way now.”

Megatron watched as Trailcutter stood and walked to the wash racks, most likely to take matters into his own servos. He stared down at his flagging spike and punched the berth. He should have taken the death penalty all those months ago. Anything would be better than the hell he found himself in.


	4. Chapter 4

“And you see that shape there?” asked First Aid, pointing at the dark image on the screen. “That’s his little helm.”

Rodimus stared at the screen, trying not to hyperventilate. “He has a helm already?”

“Yes, and you can see his little chassis here. Oh, and those little stubs are his limbs. Right now it’s basically just the beginnings of a frame and it’s completely empty, because his spark is still connected to yours, but it’s there.”

Rodimus leant back against the berth and whined, coving his face with his hands. “What am I going to do? How am I going to tell Magnus?”

“Well, I have an idea,” suggested First Aid. “You can start with, ‘I’m carrying, Magnus. You’re the sire. Say goodbye to your freedom.’ That’s what I’d say.”

“Ha-ha, go frag yourself,” said Rodimus with a fake smile and pulled an obscene gesture with his servo.

“Someone’s a bit moody. I would say that is the carrier protocols setting in, but I know better. That’s just your natural, charming personality.” First Aid downloaded an image of the sparkling to a data pad and handed it to Rodimus. 

“Why are you even helping me? I thought you were into necrophilia lately, only looking at dead bodies and that stuff.”

First Aid’s visor brightened with his irritation as he packed away the scanner, muttering something inaudible. Once he was done he straightened up and studied Rodimus, who lay slumped in the berth. 

“First of all, that word doesn’t mean what you think it means. Secondly, I’ve always been interested in sparklings, even now. Our world is filled with so much death that it’s a novelty now when life is created, instead of destroyed. Do you know how many sparklings I’ve seen, Rodimus?”

Rodimus shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe in the low double digits?”

First Aid held up his servos and curled them both into fists. “That’s how many sparklings, Rodimus. I have not seen a single one. When I was born, the war had already taken a severe toll. I was one of the last who were born, not forged or constructed cold. You have no idea how rare your son is.”

“Well not so rare, seeing Swerve’s is due soon. I don’t care what anyone else says, he looks like he’s about to pop.”

First Aid drummed his fingers and pulled out a different scanner. “This is painful to say, but you might be onto something there, Rodimus.”

“I knew it!” shouted Rodimus as he slammed his fists down. “Swerve is going to pop!”

“No, that is still pure stupid. I was talking about how both you and Swerve are carrying at the same time. Thousands of years without a single sparkling, then suddenly two at once? That can’t be a coincidence.” 

He pressed the scanner to Rodimus’ abdominal plates, then moved it up to his spark and shook his head. “Nothing yet, can I take an energon sample?”

“Sure,” Rodimus held out his arm. “Only sparklings and cowards are scared of needles.”

“Your subtleness is astounding as ever, Rodimus,” muttered First Aid as he drew energon from a fuel line. 

First Aid inserted the vial into one of the nearby machines and switched it on, doing some kind of magic while Rodimus watched. The next few minutes were spent in near silence, broken only by the steady hum of medical machinery. Rodimus’ mind drifted to his sparkling. What would he look like? Would he take more after Rodimus or Magnus, well Minimus? He almost laughed at the thought of a tiny, red minibot with the mark of the house of Ambus. Oh, that would be precious. He could see him when he closed his eyes. Small, yet filled with bravado and courage. That would drive Magnus up the walls, he could hardly handle Rodimus tackling challenges far too big for him, yet alone his son. Their baby would have a much tougher time, if he was indeed a minibot. Rodimus felt a surge of protectiveness, their son would need Rodimus to look out for him. 

“Aha!” called out First Aid. “I was right.”

Rodimus shifted until he sat on the edge of the berth, servos unconsciously cupping his middle. “What did you find, Aid?”

“Well there are very faint traces of-” began First Aid before he was cut off by a loud bang.

“RODIMUS!” 

Rodimus turned to see Magnus storming into the med bay. “Mags? What are you doing he- Oh wait, I guess you must have heard the news.”

Megatron followed in behind Magnus, a sly smile on his face. “No, he doesn’t. Ratchet told me to, but I decided it would be best if he heard the news from you. I’m just here to keep the peace.”

“What have you done now, Rodimus?” demanded Magnus. “Megatron said you were in the med bay and when pressed for details, all he said that it would potentially affect you for the rest of your life.”

“I’m carrying.”

Magnus shuttered his optics and sighed. “What kind of disease? Is it a plague?” his face then turned deadly serious. “Interface related?”

Rodimus glared up at his lover, “It’s not a disease. It’s a sparkling.”

Magnus stumbled and Megatron caught him under the arms, forcing him back onto his peds.

“A sparkling?! How’s that possible, the ship’s energon supplies are laced with contraception. Except for the energon at Swerve’s, that’s how I thought he ended up carrying.”

Megatron frowned, “This is the first time I’ve heard about this.”

“It was something I didn’t bother the captain with, I assigned it to…” trailed off Magnus before he hunched over the berth.

“Magnus?” asked Rodimus, placing a servo on Magnus’ back.

Magnus stood straight and took a deep vent, composing himself. “I assigned three mechs the job, an officer, a medical staff member and a mech from the lower decks, selected at random. Drift, Ambulon and Pipes. I didn’t bother anyone else with it, I didn’t think it important enough. Not even Ratchet.”

“Well, that explains the trace elements of contraceptive I found in Rodimus’ energon. Not enough to do its job, but enough for me to find,” explained First Aid as he gestured to the test results.

A heavy silence descended on the room, stretching on until a bark of laughter broke it. Megatron shook with his laughter, head thrown back and servos clutching his middle. 

“Ha, when you frag up you do it good it spectacularly,” gasped Megatron, his face then turned dark. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused?”

Magnus shuddered and clutched at Rodimus’ servo. “I can fix this, sir. I’ll just assign someone new to do the job and next time I’ll take better care of the task, I won’t let it happen again.”

Megatron’s face twisted into something terrifying, the type of expression Rodimus had seen many times before on the battlefield. 

“This is not something that can be simply fixed!” he bellowed, right in Magnus’ face. “How do you suggest we fix this? I’ve seen the way the crew of this ship seem to spend the vast majority of their time in each other’s berths! How many expectant carriers do you think are aboard right now? How are we going to all care for them, feed them, teach them? Most of the mechs aboard have no idea how to raise a sparkling, including dear Rodimus here. This isn’t all just going away! And just so you know, you can’t add the contraceptive back into the energon supply, it could cause birth defects or miscarriage. Now, I have to go inform the ship of what’s happened and sort out how bad the situation is. You stay here and try not impregnate anyone else!”

Megatron then took a deep vent and turned to Rodimus, who was sat silent with shock. 

“Congratulations, Rodimus. I hope that with the right guidance from a mech with experience, you make a good carrier,” he said with a small, but genuine, smile. 

Then he was gone, stomping out of the med bay, leaving the small group of frozen mechs behind. As the doors slid shut, First Aid turned to them and snickered.

“Can you tell he’s still frazzled from earlier? When Trailcutter was in here being checked, I decided to joke that I think I saw something. I’ve never seen a more terrified mech.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter had to be split, it was just too big.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, once the sparkling is in the third trimester and integrating with its frame, it will start to move about. It will start off with just little twitches, but then it will start turning over and kicking. This will cause muffled clanking noises and strange sensations in the abdomen.”

Tailgate looked up from the back row, where he’d been dozing at his desk. He glanced at his friends around him, Nautica was taking a ridiculous amount of notes, Brainstorm seemed to be fashioning a mini gun from his stylus, Riptide was half listening, half playing footsies with his neighbour and Getaway had disappeared. 

He put a servo to his abdominal plating, considering what Ratchet had just said. He’d been feeling strange sensations for a few months, sometimes he even thought he heard strange noises. That morning the sensations had changed from small fluttering feelings to brief twinges of slight pain. He hadn’t thought much about it, passing it off as just some bad energon, but throughout the day the pain had been increasing.

“Hey, Ratchet?” asked Tailgate. “I have a question to do with the sensations. Are they painful?”

“No, they should only hurt if the sparkling is large in comparison to the carrier. For example, Swerve might experience pain from the sparkling later on, because it’s a standard sized frame being carried by a minibot.”

Tailgate sighed deeply, the stress leaving his frame. Of course he wasn’t carrying. There wasn’t even a bump. He settled back down into his seat and leant back, trying to relieve the pressure that was building up in his lower back strut.

“Okay, now we’re going to go over the most important part of the carrying cycle, the emergence.”

Ratchet flipped to the next slide and shrieks erupted across the room. Tailgate shrunk back in his chair, flinching away in horror at the image that was plastered across the screen. It looked a valve, but it was stretched far too wide and what was that in it?

“Is that a helm?” shrieked Brainstorm from his position curled up under a chair.

Ratchet smirked and put his servos on his hips, looking far too satisfied with himself. “Yes it is, a sparkling’s helm to be far more accurate. This is where the sparkling comes out of, or did you think it somehow came out a different way? That’s the way it gets there in the first place and that’s the way it gets out.”

The whole class sat around in various states of shock, some frozen with expressions of horror on their faces, while others trembled without restraint. Ratchet meanwhile was the happiest Tailgate had ever seen him, his grin stretching from one side of his face to the other. It was terrifying.

“Now I’ve let the horror of emergence settle in your dim processors, we can go through the whole process. Emergence starts off with dull pains brought about the gestation tank contracting around the sparkling, these pains get closer together and last longer the further into emergence the carrier is.”

Tailgate stood on his chair and thrust his servo up. “Ratchet! Do these pains also include lower struts?”

“Yes, how would you know that- Oh, no.”

“I think I might be in emergence,” whimpered Tailgate as a strong wave of pain made him double over.

The room quickly dissolved into panic. The crew rushed about, unsure what to do. Nautica held Tailgate’s servo as the contraction became unbearable, it felt like Tailgate’s internals were rearranging themselves. Tailgate's vision blurred, narrowing the world to the pain he felt. It was chaos. 

“Out of the way, you slag brained idiots,” growled Ratchet as he pushed through the crowd. “That sparkling isn’t going to deliver itself!”

Tailgate exhaled a sharp vent as Ratchet knelt next to him. “What do I do, Ratchet?”

“Just keep calm and do what I say, if the contractions are this bad then he can’t be far off. There isn’t time to get to the med bay, so we’re going to have to do this here.”

“Away from any medical equipment?” gulped Nautica, almost crushing Tailgate’s servo in her own.

Ratchet shot her a withering glare. “Nautica, I am a professional. I have done this many times before and Tailgate will be fine. Now if you want to help the situation, instead of making it worse, I suggest you go tell Cyclonus he’s about to become a sire.”

Nautica surged to her peds. “Yes, Ratchet! Right away, Ratchet!”

The pain lessened as Nautica made a quick escape and Tailgate’s senses returned to him.

“Oh, primus! How is Cyclonus going to take this?” hissed Tailgate through the remaining pain. “What if he doesn’t want us?”

Ratchet rolled his optics. “Are we thinking about the same Cyclonus? The one who acts like your oversized shadow and shortened his lifespan dramatically to save your life? Trust me, he’ll stick by you.”

“Oh,” Tailgate thought back to the times Cyclonus had gone above and beyond for him, always with that permanent scowl fixed firmly on his face, but he had done it nonetheless. “I think you may have a point there Ratchet.”

“Of course I do.”

A dark shadow fell across the two as a tall figure loomed above them.

“If he is wrong though, I am perfectly willing to take Cyclonus’ place.”

“GETAWAY!” boomed Ratchet.

Tailgate wasn’t sure if it was a name or a command.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the penultimate chapter. The next one is just a little bonus epilogue with Brainstorm. If you're really, really desperate then you can go to my tumblr blairfagin and try suggesting stuff to add. Hope you guys enjoyed.


	6. Chapter 6

Brainstorm’s face twisted in distaste. Amongst the tables at Swerve’s there was a large one set aside for specific customers. The group had grown bigger since the area had been created for them, as the parasites were spreading. 

A loud scream of what sounded like pure agony shook the bar and Brainstorm pressed his face into the table. No, not tonight!

“Will you shut up that brat!” shouted Whirl from his side of the bar.

“Hey frag you!” retorted Rodimus as he bounced Blastburn on his knee.

The tiny red sparkling’s face was scrunched up as he tested the limits of his vocaliser, tiny servos lashing out at his struggling carrier. 

“No thanks,” laughed Whirl. “That’s what got us into this situation in the first place.”

The laughter was abruptly silenced when Rodimus shot Whirl one of his recently acquired death glares. Once Rodimus seemed sure that Whirl wasn’t going to start anything the expression melted away, turning into a forced smile. 

“Oh, don’t be like that my baby boy. Here, let carrier make it better.”

Rodimus tickled Blastburn’s abdominal plating with fingers and kisses, making the sparkling scream with laughter. Brainstorm clutched his audials in pain, he hadn’t even known it was possible to scream with laughter until the sparklings showed up.

He hated the changes that had been made to accommodate the sparklings, not just the bar being taken over, but weapons were more heavily regulated. Ultra Magnus was constantly breathing down his neck, slapping restraint after restraint on his projects. It wasn’t like Brainstorm was going to let any sparklings into his workshop anyway, they’d most likely destroy any weapon they got their servos on. As well as killing themselves, though that would be a plus in Brainstorm’s book. Rodimus was also more likely to agree with Magnus since Blastburn had been born, as if the sparkling’s first act upon exiting his carrier’s tank was to perform shadowplay. The co-captain was less reckless, less loud and a whole lot grumpier, though the last one was probably due to a lack of recharge. 

Rodimus was unfortunately not the only one, Tailgate was brimming with confidence that took the form of scathing insults, Skids was less likely to go drinking, Cyclonus looked like he was constantly in the middle of a battlefield, searching for any sign that his son, Cutoff, was at risk. Brainstorm stayed as far away as possible, he saw the looks of suspicion that Cyclonus kept on giving his briefcase.

On the other servo there were some positive changes, Magnus would sometimes crack a tiny smile and there was a change in Swerve that Brainstorm found hard to describe. Swerve had always smiled a lot, but now when he smiled - most of the time at his sparkling, Crash - it felt different, more genuine. 

“Cari! Cari! Cari!” babbled Crash from where he sat on Skids lap, reaching for his carrier behind the bar.

Brainstorm didn’t care though, he’d sacrifice the slight upgrade in his friend’s happiness for his old bar back. He quickly left the bar and made his way to his lab, trying not to frown at the sparklings and heavy carriers he passed on his way. The population boom was fragging annoying. 

“Sire’s home my darling,” he greeted the frame he was building with open arms. 

Soon he’d be able to add the point one precenter spark he had collected on Luna 1. She was coming along nicely, her spot in Brainstorm’s lab was quickly filling with spare and rejected parts. Only the best would be good enough for his creation, she had to outshine all the sparklings that were popping up around the place. She would of course be better than all the other sparklings, seeing as forged creations came online fully grown. He was still considering what colour scheme he wanted for her, he had thought maybe purple, but her gender was already too obvious. He wanted Nautica to be flattered after all, not freaked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And all is at an end. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
